


In the Hospital

by Stormlyht



Series: This Town That Loves Me [30]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hospital, M/M, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormlyht/pseuds/Stormlyht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek gets a simple text.  "At Hospital.  Stiles."  He doesn't need anything more to get moving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Here is a Sunday evening update for you all. I'm writing along nicely right now, probably because my work hours have shortened. What that means to you, is an additional chapter this week! Congrats!
> 
> I have the whole rest of the story mapped out, and all I have to do is write it. Which means, hopefully, that I can keep powering through to the end.

The text came in late. Derek had been asleep, but he woke up to the chime. It was Scott, and Derek never got texts from Scott. Sitting up, he reached for his phone before even opening his eyes.

‘At Hospital. Stiles.’ was all the text said.

Derek frowned and texted back, ‘What about Stiles?’

There was a moment before he got the next text. ‘will b fine’

Something in his chest squeezed painfully and Derek threw the covers off to get out of the bed. What the hell had happened?

He was dressed and grabbing his keys before he got the next text. ‘Mom taking care of him, promise’

Derek didn’t even ask what happened, he just ran to his car and started driving. Fast. His heart was pounding a mile a minute and around a few of the turns he saw red. Nothing could happen to Stiles, not… not now, not when he was just starting to learn how to communicate with the idiot. Not when things might be looking up.

He heard the sirens but didn’t pause. So what if they followed him to the hospital, so what if they gave him a ticket, he didn’t care. Stiles was hurt, and he wasn’t going to just take the word of Scott, he *had* to see for himself.

When he parked he practically jumped out of the car and slammed the door closed, running into the building. Let the police follow him in. As soon as he was in the doors he took a deep breath and smelled hospital, blood, Scott, the Sheriff, antiseptic, pain, fear. His eyes flashed around and then he saw Scott heading down the hall towards him.

“Dude, I said he’d be fine,” Scott half sighed, half laughed. Derek rushed over to him.

“Where is he?” he growled out.

“There’s a guard posted at his door, and I swear my mother is making sure he’s taken care of,” Scott said gently as they met in the hallway. He reached out a hand and lightly placed it on Derek’s arm.

“Where. Is. He?” Derek said each word perfectly, narrowing his eyes at Scott.

“I’ll take you to him, but you’ve got to calm down,” Scott whispered, leaning in. “You’re eyes are red.”

He had to have control, some control, a bit of control. Leaning away from Scott, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. In, then slowly out, let the anger fade, let the worry sink into the background. He opened his eyes again and everything looked normal.

“There,” he said. “Now. Where is he?”

“Upstairs. I heard you coming,” Scott said with a nod as he let go of Derek and walked over to the elevator. “He’s just a little beat up, so be warned about that. Mom says he doesn’t have a concussion and the cast is only necessary because Stiles moves so much.”

When the doors opened he followed Scott into the elevator and he stared at the numbers while Scott hit the 2. Scott was completely calm, but there were traces of distress that Derek could read. The way his collar wasn’t straight, the sweat that had dried in his hair and the trace of blood on his hand were all indications. It was Scott’s blood, Derek could smell that, so Scott probably hadn’t been the one to find Stiles.

“What happened?” Derek asked softly, not sure Scott would tell him.

“That’s still under investigation,” Scott said with a shake of his head. “The Sheriff will tell you more when you get in.”

“But there are broken bones?” Derek breathed the words as he turned away from Scott.

“You’ll see.” The elevator opened and Scott led the way down the hall to where a deputy was standing outside a door. “This is Derek,” Scott said and the deputy nodded.

“I’m not supposed to let anyone other than family in,” the deputy said and Scott sighed.

“Derek is family,” he said. The deputy opened the door and peered in the room.

“Sheriff? Is Derek allowed inside the room?”

“Yeah,” Derek heard the soft voice said. He could also hear the exhaustion lacing the single word.

“Fine,” the deputy said, nodding at Scott and Derek.

“Thanks,” Scott said, and Derek said nothing as he followed him inside.

Stiles was lying in a bed, monitors beeping around him, his left arm lifted and encased in a cast. His skin was pale but he wasn’t hooked up to a breathing machine so that was good. There were bruises all over his face, one eye was swollen shut and his lips were split in three places.

“What the hell happened?” Derek breathed, reaching out and touching Stiles arm. He wanted to take pain but nothing happened.

“I tried already, he’s so drugged up he doesn’t feel anything,” Scott said softly.

“It was a gas station attendant. Clark Andrews,” the Sheriff said. Derek didn’t look away from Stiles.

“Why?” he asked softly. His fingers ran down Stiles’ uncast arm. “What did Stiles do?”

“I’ve got the camera tape at the station, and Clark is being questioned by a different deputy,” the Sheriff sighed. “They’re all telling me to stay out of this, to step away, but it’s my son,” he choked. Derek turned to look at the Sheriff and he saw the way the man’s shoulders were shaking. There was rage there, but there was also pain, a lot of pain. “I want to pistol-whip the bastard who did this to my son.”

There was nothing but truth in the Sheriff’s words, and Derek reached out to touch his arm. “You can’t,” he said firmly. The Sheriff looked up at him, met Derek’s eyes and shook his head. “You *can’t*,” Derek stressed again.

“You don’t understand,” the Sheriff said. “You *can’t* understand.”

“I understand the need for revenge,” Derek growled the words out. “I understand needing to protect your family, and I even understand wanting to wrap Stiles up in bubble wrap and hoping that he stays out of trouble long enough to grow the fuck up.” Derek shook his head. “But you can’t do that. You’re the Sheriff of this town, and everyone needs you to treat this like any other investigation. They need you to do it right, with a level head, because they trusted you with this position. You *can’t* let them down.”

There were echo’s of his mother’s words to him in what he told the Sheriff, reminders that she had given him back when he was a boy. The town needed him to be a Hale, the town needed him to represent all that a Hale was, respected, important, fair. Three times he had pushed her when it came to things he wanted to do that weren’t very Hale-like. Three times he made mistakes and twice she taught him what those mistakes did to everyone in the pack. She hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him about the third time. He knew his mistake and what it meant simply because she wasn’t around anymore. The job of Sheriff was different from the duty of Alpha, but the idea was the same.

“Serve and Protect,” Derek whispered, closing his eyes and sighing.

There was silence and then a hand grasped his arm. He opened his eyes to see that the Sheriff had turned his arm and was clasping him back. The warmth in his eyes was very similar to what Derek would often see in Stiles’ eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he returned the Sheriff’s small smile.

“You’re speaking like someone who knows what that means,” the Sheriff said and Derek nodded.

“Maybe a little,” Derek agreed. There was a similarity between being an Alpha and being a Sheriff that he wouldn’t have considered before. Now, however, he understood. Maybe he’d get to live long enough to teach Scott.

“Thanks.” The hand squeezed and then moved away. Derek let it leave and he nodded.

“Yeah. You’re welcome. Think you can do that?” Derek asked.

“I know I can.” The Sheriff nodded. “I know I can.”

“Stiles is going to need you to be strong for him,” Derek sighed out. He looked around and saw a seat on the other side of the bed. Walking over, he noticed that Scott was gone. He hadn’t even heard the boy leave. “Things aren’t going to be easy, and he really cares a lot for you.”

“He’ll need you too, if what I’ve seen is any indication. I’ve never seen him so hung up on someone as he is on you. I guess that’s a good thing.”

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted, reaching out to touch the cast. “I seem to be doing a very bad job of protecting him right now.”

“This isn’t your fault,” the Sheriff said. “You know that, right?”

“Of course it’s my fault,” Derek sighed. “Every time he gets hurt, it’s my fault.”

“Derek, a lunatic did this to my son. I don’t even know why, and even if this was another notch in the whole “Stiles isn’t good enough for Derek” thing this town has going on, it still wouldn’t be *your* fault. You didn’t make the boy start beating up my son. You didn’t tell him it was a good idea to do that. Hell Derek, you’ve only ever protected him and stood up for him, surely you see that?”

Derek looked down at the purple and blue face. It still felt like his fault. “It’s only going to get worse,” he whispered.

“The town? Or something else?” The Sheriff tapped on the bed and Derek looked over at him. “There’s something big going on that he hasn’t told me about, and you’re hinting around it too I think. What’s going on?”

“You don’t need to know,” Derek started, but the Sheriff pursed his lips.

“You don’t need to be in here with my son,” he said and Derek shook his head.

“It’s not like that, it won’t make sense, there’s so much…” he trailed off and looked back at Stiles. “I can’t tell you. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“Oh there are secrets are there? If I ground him for life, will that help matters along? No, you know what, he’s grounded, and until I know what’s happening he doesn’t get ungrounded. Sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded and smiled. “Maybe that would help him actually. Keep him grounded. Don’t let him out of the house, take away his car keys.”

The Sheriff snorted. “I know it’s bad when you agree with me on something like that. Fine,” he shrugged. “I can’t make you tell me what’s happening, but I promise I’ll find out.”

Derek sighed and he looked up at the Sheriff. “Just keep him safe, okay? I need to know… he’ll be protected.”

“When? In a week when you go off and murder yourself? Now I really am beginning to be worried. What’s going on son?”

Son. It wasn’t a word used in his direction very often, especially not now. Son. It sounded wrong, but right. Son. There was a pain inside that he couldn’t get a handle on. His eyes filled with tears as he felt that word go through him.

“I can’t tell you. Stiles has to tell you, I’m sorry,” he whispered the words out, closing his eyes and pressing his face into the cast. If only Stiles had gone straight home. If only he hadn’t kept Stiles out so long. If only a thousand things had happened differently. “When he wakes up, you can tell him that I give him permission, okay? Everything. He can tell you anything, it’s okay.”

Silence rang through the room and he reached one hand up to touch Stiles’ hair. The Sheriff didn’t say anything and he couldn’t talk because the well of emotion inside was threatening to overwhelm him. Whatever happened, he wanted Stiles to be safe. He *needed* Stiles to be safe.


End file.
